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<title>Full Moon Ficlet #376 - Sport by JoMouse</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23706178">Full Moon Ficlet #376 - Sport</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMouse/pseuds/JoMouse'>JoMouse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Full Moon Ficlets [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Banter, Boys Kissing, Domestic Fluff, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:01:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23706178</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMouse/pseuds/JoMouse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek enjoy arguing. Especially when it ends.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Full Moon Ficlets [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652395</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>148</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Full Moon Ficlet Prompt #376: Sport</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Full Moon Ficlet #376 - Sport</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Greetings and Salutations.</p><p>Not much to report this week, but I hope you like the story.</p><p>xx-Joey</p><p>Don't know 'em. Don't own 'em. Don't show 'em.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Golf is not a sport,” Derek argued, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing Stiles with a glare that screamed, “Here we go again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can you say that?! It’s televised on ESPN!” Stiles shouted, arms waving around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is no direct competition and you don’t sweat,” Derek countered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do if it’s ninety-five out!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rolling his eyes, Derek huffed out a sigh and tightened his arms, distracting Stiles slightly from his ranting with bulging biceps beneath his forest green tee. Rubbing a hand over his mouth to clear any obvious drooling, Stiles tried again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Archery is a sport. Just ask Allison.” Stiles smiled triumphantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a sport. They’re not shooting at each other. No direct competition and nothing that would qualify as a ball,” Derek told him, smirking when Stiles scoffed, and then turning away to head into the kitchen and check on dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles followed him into the kitchen. “So, your definition of a sport is played with something qualifying as a ball?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, so a puck or a ball,” Derek said, opening the oven and taking out the meatloaf he’d made. “Because hockey is a sport.” Setting the pan on the counter, he moved back to the oven to check on the garlic herb bread that was baking and turned the oven off, leaving the bread to finish out the last couple of minutes. “Speaking of, the Kings are playing tonight. Maybe we should see if Boyd and your dad want to come over and watch with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so a sport has balls and direct competition,” Stiles continued, moving to set the table out of habit as he continued his argument.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And sweat. It’s not a sport if you don’t work up a sweat,” Derek reminded him, moving the meatloaf to a serving dish and slicing it before bringing it to the table. He set it in the center and looked up at Stiles who was giving him a considering look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them had been dating for a few years and moved in together six months earlier and one of Stiles favorite things about their relationship was the banter they had over any topic that popped into their heads. It didn’t matter how mundane the topic, the previous week they’d gone back and forth about whether the sky was cerulean or Pacific blue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was another typical Friday and Stiles wanted to lean over and kiss the smug look on Derek’s face, the one he always got when Stiles was quiet for too long during the discussion. He knew Derek thought the subject would be dropped and that he had won but Stiles could not let it end that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, balls, competition and sweat?” Stiles said when Derek turned his back to get the bread out of the oven. “Which means, sex is a sport.” Stiles burst out laughing when the pan clattered to the counter before Derek whirled around to stare at him with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think sex is competitive?” he finally managed to get out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you?” Stiles countered, moving closer to Derek, his gaze tracing him up and down. “Don’t you try to outdo every lover I had before you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek narrowed his eyes and huffed out a breath. “That’s not a competition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles wiggled his eyebrows and poked a finger into Derek’s chest. “You sure about that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek growled and before Stiles knew it, he was over Derek’s shoulder with a great view of his boyfriend’s butt. He didn’t even care if dinner got cold because there was always time for sports. He was laughing the entire way to the bedroom and when Derek tossed him on the bed, he couldn’t help but grin up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, you know that, right?” he said, reaching for Derek’s shirt to pull it off him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I love you, too, even if you are a pain in the ass.” Derek pulled Stiles’ shirt off and when Stiles opened his mouth to say something, he leaned in and whispered, “Just shut up,” before kissing him until he forgot what they’d been debating in the first place.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I would say I'm sorry for ending it where I did, but if I tried to carry on, it would have literally taken me a year to write because I struggle with the fun stuff. ;)</p><p>Come say 'hi' on tumblr. I'm josjournal over there.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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